


It's Not Halloween Until...

by Wind_Writes



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Halloween, Pumpkin Head Fangs, spooky season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 00:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Writes/pseuds/Wind_Writes
Summary: The Serpents get pretty serious about their Halloween decorations, but Fangs goes a little overboard.





	It's Not Halloween Until...

The sun was just resting above the treetops as FP maneuvered his bike through the Southside, the buzz of what the evening would bring buzzing just above the streets. Red, orange and yellow leaves danced along the curb in the brisk fall wind while plastic skeletons and jack-o-lanterns waited eagerly for the night to begin. In just a few hours the neighborhoods would be crawling with kids dressed up witches and wizards, fireman and doctors, in search of more candy than they could possibly consume while their older siblings, some of them FP’s own recruits, will be tossing eggs at homes and toilet papering every business and tall tree that lined a main road.

He smiled as he continued to weave through neighborhoods on his way to the Wyrm, thrilled to see so many houses decked out and ready to celebrate. Halloween seemed to be one of the few nights that the families from the wrong side of the tracks let themselves relax and simply enjoy the fun that came with too much candy, spooky decorations and the ability to pretend to be someone else for a night. Afterall, a little pretending did the body good.

He couldn’t help but feel some pride at the thought, knowing that while his recruits would be out causing their own mischief, they were also tasked with ensuring the Ghoulies kept their troubles to themselves.

Bouncing over potholes and kicking up gravel, FP pulled into the lot at the Wyrm and his smile broadened. Dried corn stalks flanked both sides of the main doors and cobwebs were stretched along the faded awning while carved pumpkins were stacked beside the stairs and against the front walls. In the windows, amongst the blinking signs for domestic beer, FP could make out severed limbs hanging from string while bats and spiders danced between them. It was Halloween on the Southside, alright.

As if the bar wanted to help with the festivities, it’s doors creaked when FP let himself in and the usually dim lights seemed to add an extra flicker now and again for good measure. While FP had been tickled by the outside get up, that had only been a fraction at what they’d managed to pull off inside. 

Sweet Pea and Fangs argued in the middle of a monstrous display of jack-o-lanterns, the stage filled to the brim with different carved and painted faces, while Toni focused on strands of lights that needed to be wound through the supporting back drop of cornstalks and some creepy faced dummies.

A life-sized Frankenstein stood towering in the corner by the pool cues and a group of skeletons were propped up around one of the tables and sharing a round of drinks. Bats hung from the ceiling and ghosts fluttered on either side of the back bar mirror while eerie music streamed for the cobweb covered jukebox.

“Nice of you to show up.”

Helping himself to the bowl of candy on the bar, FP took in one more sweep of the bar and focused on the red head standing above him. “It looks good in here.”

“Thanks.” Smile on her face, Dottie finished hanging the last of the cobwebs from the lights above the bar and jumped down beside FP, proud gaze scanning around the room to take in their hard work. “Figured you can’t host a Halloween party without the place looking the part.”

“And what about you?” Taking in her faded flannel shirt and worn tank top, FP was a little disappointed that he hadn’t caught her in costume yet. Granted, it was still late afternoon and the party wasn’t scheduled to start long past dark. “You going to look the part tonight?”

Pulling her tank top out from her chest and double checking her paint stained jeans and worn motorcycle boots, Dottie gave FP a questioning look. “What, is dressing up as a bartender cheating?”

“Maybe not cheating, but it’s the lazy way out,” FP drawled.

Dottie chuckled, knowing exactly where her friend’s mind was wandering. “I might just have something up my sleeve.”

Winding a finger around her loose hair, FP gave her a sly grin. “Hope it’s something good.”

“I think you’ll approve.”

Dottie figured he’d appreciate the slim fitting white dress and bulky white necklace she’d found, but she didn’t know if he’d appreciate the costume she had stashed away in her closet for him. How could she be expected to be Wilma Flintstone without Fred. 

Taking a seat at the bar, FP noticed the line of small, plastic spiders that worked their way along the edge, the train of them leading to the one decoration he thought he’d never see. 

Brows raised in confusion, FP tapped on the cheap Hasbro board and turned to look at Dottie. “I thought you didn’t do Ouija boards.”

Dottie grimaced, the sight of the board alone sending a chill up her spine. “It’s decoration only.”

She had never been one to pay too much attention to superstition or supernatural things, figuring enough bad stuff went on in a Serpent’s life without adding more wrinkles to the fold, but ever since the Jason Blossom incident, Dottie could have sworn a presence had been hanging around the bar.

It didn’t happen all the time, usually just when she was alone and usually just at night, sometimes in the bar but also in her apartment above. She didn’t know what it was or why it had decided to stick to her, but she wasn’t going to give it the opportunity to get any more power than it already had. 

“And what’s to stop anyone from trying to play a little?” FP teased.

He had never understood Dottie’s sudden aversion to folklore that surrounded a kid’s game or the fact that he’d caught her, on more than one occasion, burning a sage stick in the apartment, but she was who she was and he found her abnormal aversion to such things a great source of entertainment.

Reaching towards the board, Dottie’s gauzed covered hand grabbed the wooden reader and tried to lift it, a coy smile spreading across her lips as the board moved too. “I super glued the planchette to the board.”

Focus pulled from the wooden toy to the white bandage wrapped around Dottie’s palm, FP turned her hand over to see the faint coppery color of blood poking through the layers of gauze. “What the hell happened to your hand?”

“Work related accident…” Patting FP’s cheek, Dottie merely shrugged and withdrew her hand from his. She’d stitched up and survived far worse wounds than a knife to the palm. “Pumpkin got away from me.”

FP eyed the bandage a moment longer before slowly bringing his gaze to her face, dark eyes lingering just a moment at the scar that ran from her ear, along the length of her neck. “You should be more careful.”

Dottie waved off her friend’s concern, knowing he spent more time than necessary worrying about minor issues.

“Don’t worry, I got the last laugh.” She smiled at the thought. It had been one of the final pumpkins she’d carved and had been thrilled with the outcome, even if she’d had to shed a little blood for it.

“Which one was it?”

“The one…” Green eyes wide, Dottie stared across the pool table at the laughing boys who were supposed to be setting up the stage, “on Fangs’ head.”

FP and Dottie watched, dumbfounded, at Fangs and Sweet Pea began to sword fight with some leftover support sticks they’d used to prop up the corn stalks out front, the clacking of fake swords echoing through the bar while a pumpkin wearing Fangs lunged at Sweet Pea and almost toppled over from the weight on his shoulders.

Perched on a ladder, hanging lights above the pumpkin display, Toni rolled her eyes as Sweet Pea dropped the sword and ran to the other end of the pool table, effectively beginning a very irritating game of cat and mouse. Some days, she regretted calling the two idiots her friends.

Realizing he had grabbed everyone’s attention, Fangs turned so he could see FP and Dottie on the other side of the bar through the jack-o-lantern’s eyes, his voice echoing excitedly inside the orange gourd. “Look, I’m the headless horseman!”

FP couldn’t help but laugh at the picture that Fangs painted, his encouragement of the boy’s antics earning him a sharp elbow in the gut.

No nearly as amused as the men, Dottie, with her hands on her hips, hit Fangs with the most motherlike, disapproving tone that she could muster. “Fangs, take that thing off your head and put it with the rest of the jack-o-lanterns.”

A little crestfallen, but knowing it was best to do as Dottie said, Fangs reached up and tried to lift the pumpkin off his head. The grinning decoration made it off his shoulders but not long after that it stopped short just as it passed his chin. To the amusement, and mild horror, of everyone in the bar, Fangs continued to attempt an escape from the decoration he’d shoved on his head, but he wasn’t having any luck.

“Sweet Pea, help.” Fangs mumbled, words barely audible from inside his giant orange mask.

Snapping one last picture of pumpkin head Fangs, Sweet Pea pocketed his phone and confidently yanked on the stem of the pumpkin, earning a yelp from his best friend but not budging the pumpkin from hits spot. Sweet Pea gave a few more hard yanks and then released his hold, snickering as he stepped back. “Dude… it’s stuck.”

Popping open a beer for herself and FP, Dottie handed over FP’s and took a long drag of her own as the boys continued to struggle. It was getting harder and harder for her to keep a straight face as the situation got more ridiculous with every passing moment. 

Figuring Fangs had suffered enough, and knowing Dottie wasn’t going to jump at the chance to help him, FP turned to the next best option outside of destroying the jack-o-lantern. “Toni, will you help them please?”

“Morons.” Not shy about hiding her irritation, Toni took her time coming down the ladder, figuring it wouldn’t hurt for Fangs to sweat it out in there. Considerably shorter than her friends, Toni gave the situation a good look trying to figure out the best plan of action. “Bend over so I can get a better hold.”

“That’s what she said,” Sweet Pea mumbled, immediately regretting it as Toni gave him a swift kick to his shin.

His only concern being the current situation he found himself in, Fangs did as he was asked and braced his hands on the end of the pool table. “It’s getting hot in here, guys.”

Reaching for the base of the pumpkin, Toni grasped either side of the opening and pulled with all she had, to no avail. Adjusting her hold slightly, Toni tried again, barking orders at Fangs as her feet slipped on the worn linoleum. “Rotate your head a little and push against the pool table!”

“I am! It’s not budging!” Fangs’ tone grew more frantic the more Toni pulled. 

Giving one more hard pull with no result, the three Serpents looked at each other for a moment before calling out in unison, unsure of what to do next. “Dottie!”

FP and Dottie shared a look, that one that parents share when their children are being idiots but can’t stay mad at them, and a gruff chuckle broke out between them. In the grand scheme of things, if this was the worst position the young serpents found themselves in tonight, it was going to be an easy night.

FP nudged Dottie, a wry smile on his face. “It’s not Halloween until someone gets their head stuck in a pumpkin.”

Placing her beer on the bar behind them, Dottie snorted. She could think of a lot of things that make it Halloween without pumpkins being stuck on teenagers’ heads. “I’m tempted to make him wear the damn thing all night.”

“You know that won’t end well.”

As much as FP loved the idea, he saw visions of Fangs trying to shotgun a beer through the crooked smile and Sweet Pea dumping beer tops and candy wrappers into the pumpkin until Fangs couldn’t see anymore. It was safer for everyone if the thing came off.

Resigned to the fact that she’d have to ruin her beautiful jack-o-lantern, Dottie opened her hand up to FP and wiggled her fingers impatiently when he just started at her. “Give me your pocket knife.”

Considering her for a moment and then thinking better of it, FP placed his beer beside Dottie’s, and waved her off, hand rummaging around in his jacket. “I’ll do it.” 

Arms crossed over her chest and weight shifted to one hip, Dottie glowered at her friend, irritation plain as day painted across her features. “I am perfectly capable of cutting a boy out of a pumpkin.”

Flipping the blade open, FP left a chaste kiss on Dottie’s forehead and headed towards the pitiful looking boy, a knowing look aimed at Dottie as he took the first chunk out of the pumpkin, “I know you are. But you might let the knife slip a little on purpose.” 

Dottie could have sworn she heard Fangs gulp.

  
  



End file.
